You were getting ready for your own birthday party, but it just seemed like everything was going wrong. Your clothes were too itchy and scratchy, but your favorite shirt was in the wash. It was way too cold, and all the clicking and beeps of Price on his laptop was too much. Tears started to spill from your eyes. You felt calloused hands take your own.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, kid? Just breathe with me. Good job. Here. I washed your shirt.” He handed you the shirt you wanted to wear. You loved it cause it was so comfortable and soft.

“Is there anything else you need? A fidget toy? Some water?”